


Breaking The Curse

by Sophie_French



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Desk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Rimming, Slash, Sneakiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophie_French/pseuds/Sophie_French
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Potter has been hit by a mysterious curse and he needs Draco to break it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking The Curse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firethesound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firethesound/gifts).



“So. I’ve got your file right here, and it says that you have…” Draco squinted his eyes a little, trying to make out Healer Pye’s impossibly small scribbling. No such luck. He sighed and fumbled into his pocket before retrieving his glasses and hastily putting them on.

“You wear glasses?” Potter said from across Draco’s desk.

“If you ever tell anyone, Potter…” Draco growled.

“No, I like them. They make you look all serious and business-like,” Potter said with a smile.

“Oh.” Draco sat straighter in his swivel chair and focused his attention on the file again. It was weird, really, that he of all people would be allowed to treat Potter. Despite being beyond reproach in his job, praised for his good results and his professionalism, he usually only got the patients nobody else wanted. Side-effects of having been a Death Eater, he supposed. And now, against all odds, Potter sat right across the desk from him, dressed in his Muggle attire.

“Right, so you’ve asked to see a Healer, because you have issues dealing with the aftermath of the war, and it-” Draco went through Healer Pye’s notes once again. “ _Prevents you from focusing on your job as an Auror._ Is that correct?”

Potter shifted on his chair, his hands stuck under his thighs and somehow, he looked like an innocent little boy, biting his bottom lip as if he were in the Headmaster’s office after having been caught cheating.

“Actually, it isn’t,” Potter said in a breath.

Draco raised an eyebrow and leaned forward on his desk, propping his elbows on it as he rested his chin in his hands, looking at Potter above his glasses. “What do you mean?”

“I- I lied.” Potter said and Draco’s eyes widened, although he had been taught during Healer training not to show any reactions in front of a patient. But then, this was no ordinary patient. This was Potter, and Draco had never managed to remain composed in Potter’s presence.

Draco leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses.

“You lied.” Draco repeated, because that was what he’d been taught to do. Let the patient do the talking.

“Yes,” Potter exhaled.

“And what did you lie about, may I ask?”

“I don’t- I don’t particularly have issues with the aftermath of the war. I mean, yes, I sometimes have nightmares about the whole thing, and I feel sad when I think about the people who died, but you see, I’m pretty resilient. It doesn’t affect me more than that. And it doesn’t prevent me from doing my job in any way.”

“Using big words, Potter? Be careful, you might give yourself a headache,” Draco drawled. He regretted doing so instantly. Potter was a patient, he reminded himself. And Draco certainly couldn’t afford to fuck this up. “So why are you here, then?”

Potter bit his bottom lip again. “I- I needed an excuse to come and see you.”

Draco took a good look at Potter, his eyes roaming over his rather fit body, his powerful, strong hands and arms, up to his thin lips and deep green eyes behind the glasses, looking at him expectantly. At this moment, Draco knew he was about to do something he wasn’t allowed to do, something he wouldn’t get away with, but he didn’t care: he refused to let Potter get to him.

“I am going to have to ask you to leave this office right this instant, Potter.” Draco snarled as he folded his glasses and placed them onto his desk next to his favourite mug - the one with the blue stripes and the chip in the handle - as calmly as possible. “Please go and find another Healer. I refuse to treat you.”

“Excuse me?” Potter looked confused.

“You heard me. I am busy, and have no time to deal with your identity crisis, or whatever it is you think you can do to mess up with me and make me waste my time.”

“What? No! I’m telling you the truth.”

“And how would I know since you’ve lied to come here in the first place?”

“That’s because- That’s because I knew that if I tried to meet with you in any other circumstances you would refuse to see me.” Potter looked desperate now, and somehow, that pleased Draco to no end.

“Of course I would. I have no desire to get anywhere near you, Potter. You might be the Saviour of the Wizarding World, The Chosen One or any of the bullshit the Prophet feeds us with regularly, but to me, you’re just the same pathetic fucking pain in the arse you were at Hogwarts. So full of yourself and expecting everybody to do your bidding. But you know what? This doesn’t work with me, never has. So get the fuck out of here.”

It was highly unprofessional to speak to a patient like that, but Draco couldn’t care less. His hand was now curled up on his wand over the pocket of his robe, ready to draw if Potter was stupid enough to try and hex him.

He waited for Potter’s face to contort in anger, for Potter’s hands to grip the arms of his chair so hard it would make his knuckles go white but nothing came. Instead, he heard Potter murmur something that sounded like ‘Bloody hell,’ as Potter closed his eyes and swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

Draco frowned. That was not normal. That was not Potter’s usual reaction to Draco’s taunts.

“Could you do that again?” Potter said in a strangled voice Draco barely recognised.

“Do what?” Draco said dryly.

“Just- Just talk to me like you just did,” Potter said, his eyes still tightly shut.

“I-”

“Please. Go on, Malfoy.” Potter said again and Draco could see that Potter’s hands were trembling, as if he were in a trance. “Tell me… tell me again what you think of me.”

Draco snorted. Potter wanted to be insulted? He was only too happy to comply.

“I hate you. I hate even the sight of you. I had to stop reading the Prophet while drinking my tea, because seeing your arrogant ugly face so early in the morning made me sick to the stomach.”

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Potter shouted, throwing his head back on his seat, eyes still closed, and Draco felt a thrill running up his spine. Sweet Merlin. Was it really possible that his words, his insults, to be more precise, could trigger such an intense reaction in Potter? He needed to make sure. He got up and rounded his desk, sitting on the edge facing Potter.

“You’re just pathetic,” Draco went on. “You and your pitiful friends, always parading around the Ministry like you own the place, thinking you’re all smart and powerful.” Draco felt anger creep inside of him at an alarming rate now, as he was finally, finally able to say out loud the words he had buried deep inside over the last few years, because he just wasn’t allowed to say them, because his parents were still on fucking house arrest and Draco had to play by the rules, had to endure the scorn and rejection from the Wizarding world for his family to maybe one day gain respect again.

“I hate the mere idea of you, the fact that you always get all the praise and glory, and that you’re such an attention-whore who gets high on other people kissing his arse.” Draco spat as he pressed his hands on Potter’s on either arm of the chair, keeping him firmly in place. Not that Potter seemed to mind; he panted heavily, his ragged breath a warm tickle on Draco’s face as he slowly opened his eyes.

“Don’t- Don’t stop, please.” And there was something in Potter’s slight desperation, something in his neediness, that made Draco’s stomach flutter more than it should have.

Draco took a long look at Potter before releasing his hands at once and walking away from him, readjusting his ugly lime-green robes before sitting back at his desk.

“I see,” Draco said in the most detached tone he could muster, putting his glasses back on. Potter looked thoroughly flushed. Fuck, that was a sight. “How long has this been going on?”

Potter blinked a couple of times. “I- roughly a month.”

“A month.”

“Yes.”

“And have you established the origins of the…” Draco gestured over at Potter. “ _Problem?_ ”

“Yes,” Potter repeated, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Go on.”

“I’ve been cursed,” Potter said in a much more assured tone this time. “By an ex-lover. Basically, I can only get aroused if someone insults me.”

“Bloody hell, Potter.” Draco sniggered. “Are you so appalling in bed that ex-lovers feel the need to curse you?”

Potter looked like he wanted to retort something sharp, but he closed his eyes instead and took a deep breath before opening them again.

“None of your business,” Potter spat. “And I wouldn’t look so happy if I were you, because now you’re involved too.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“There is only one way to break the curse.” Draco unconsciously held his breath as Potter looked far too content for his own good. “I have to sleep with the person who insulted me.”

There was an awkward silence before Draco burst out laughing. “Fuck, Potter! You nearly got me here.”

“I’m not-” Potter exhaled sharply, his hands gripping the arms of the chair now. “I’m not fucking joking here. Don’t you understand? That’s my punishment. Having to sleep with someone I despise with all my might in order to break the fucking curse.”

“And you came to see me? I’m flattered, Potter, I really am,” Draco said in the haughtiest tone he could muster. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

“No,” Potter said through gritted teeth. “Like I said, you’re involved now. Have been since you started insulting me. There’s no way back.”

Draco could feel all colour leaving his face at Potter’s words. “And what if I refuse?”

“You won’t.” And there was this defiance in Potter’s eyes, this self-assuredness that made Draco want to punch him hard in the face.

“Oh really, Potter? You’re so full of yourself that you think everybody’s just dying to jump your bones?” Draco snarled. “Well I’m not. I wouldn’t sleep with you if I had the worst case of Cerebrumous Spattergoit and the medicine was stuck up your arse.”

Potter’s hand flew to his groin as he let out a deep groan. “Oh, Malfoy, for fuck’s sake!”

Draco nearly let out a whimper this time as Potter’s reaction took him by surprise. He felt his cheeks burn at Potter’s shameless display, head thrown back, palming his impressive bulge as Draco felt himself stiffen in all the wrong places. He groaned as he let his head rest in his hands, elbows propped on his desk over Potter’s stupid file and he closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure by breathing in and out slowly. This was so not on.

Draco’s eyes flicked open as Potter tugged at his robes and Draco jerked at the touch, pushing his feet to the ground and rolling his chair back as far from Potter as he could before he hit the window behind.

Potter leaned on the edge of Draco’s desk, folding his arms on his chest, a smug look on his face that Draco wanted to slap away. “You’re interested.”

“No, I’m not,” Draco replied a little bit too fast, hastily looking away.

Potter inched himself dangerously closer as he pressed his hands on Draco’s on the arms of his chair, reversing their earlier roles.

Potter leaned forward, and his insanely messy hair tickled Draco’s cheek as he murmured in Draco’s ear. “Oh, yes, you are.”

“No, I’m n- Oh.” Draco let out a breathy moan when Potter’s vicious hand found its way between his legs.

“I knew it,” Potter said with a victorious grin on his face. “You’ve always had a thing for me.”

Draco’s snarky retort died in his throat as Potter crushed his mouth on his and oh God. Potter was _kissing_ him.

It took all of Draco’s self-control to grab Potter’s biceps and shove him back.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Draco asked in disbelief, trying very hard not to get distracted by the softness of Potter’s bare arms under his fingers and his red, shiny lips.

Potter shrugged. “Trying to break the curse?”

“Oh.” Draco chided himself for believing one second that Potter had kissed him because he had wanted to. “Of course, yes.” He looked at Potter again, at his ridiculous Gryffindor red Muggle tee-shirt, up to his famous round glasses. “Because I’m a Healer. That’s my job.”

Potter’s face lit up. “Exactly. That’s your job and you have to do it. You’re willing to sacrifice yourself because you’re a good Healer and you care for your patients. All of them. No matter what your history with them has been.”

Draco pondered Potter’s explanation, and in some remote area of his brain, found that it made sense. Enough at least not to protest when Potter kissed him again. Enough to kiss him back.

Visibly encouraged by Draco’s response, Potter settled in his lap, straddling his thighs as his hands tugged wildly at Draco’s hair. Draco didn’t care one bit. It was his duty.

The chair creaked in protest as Draco lunged himself at Potter this time, bringing their mouths together again as he kissed him like there was no tomorrow. He wrapped his arms around Potter, holding him close as they intensified the kiss and Draco whimpered as he felt Potter’s tongue meeting his, so soft and deliciously wicked at the same time. Potter tasted- bloody hell, Potter tasted amazing, and Draco found himself unable to stop kissing him. He slid his hands down Potter’s back and cupped his arse as Potter moaned wantonly against Draco’s mouth. Draco brought them closer still and Potter rocked his hips forward, pressing his erection into Draco’s, making them both moan in pleasure. That was the hottest thing Draco had ever done in his life.

After a while, Potter pulled back a little and Draco groaned at the loss of Potter’s skilled lips against his. Potter fumbled with the long row of tiny buttons down the front of Draco’s robes before Draco shoved him away from his lap impatiently, making Potter hit the edge of Draco’s desk. Potter looked thoroughly flushed and deliciously debauched.

Draco stood up, removed his robes quicker than he had ever done in his life and discarded them on the floor, before throwing himself at Potter again, immobilising him with his hands on his cheeks. Potter spread his legs and Draco settled between them and they started rubbing against each other like randy teenagers, the sheer excitement of it all going to Draco’s head, making him dizzy with need. That was all too much, all too intense, all too-

A clink of metal brought him back to his senses as he realised Potter had gone for his belt buckle. In one swift movement, Potter shoved Draco’s trousers down and they dropped to the floor. Potter licked his lips as he fumbled with Draco’s underpants. Draco’s head fell back and he let out a low moan as Potter took out his dick and circled his fingers around it, feeling hot and heavy in Potter’s hand.

“Sweet Merlin.” Potter stared at Draco’s cock, biting his bottom lip as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“What?” Draco snapped. What was wrong with his cock? Nobody had ever complained about it until then, on the contrary, as nature had been rather generous with him, thank you very much. Count on bloody Potter to-

“Fuck, I can’t believe it, it’s- bloody hell, Malfoy, who knew what you hid under your ridiculously uptight formal clothes?” Potter said and Draco’s cock twitched at the awe in Potter’s voice. That was much better.

“Yes, well, less talking and more touching, if you don’t mind. I can always send you a picture of it later on if you like it so much. In the meantime…” Draco gestured for Potter to just get on with it because, honestly-

Potter started stroking him slowly, maddeningly so, his eyes still staring at Draco’s cock as another moan escaped Draco’s lips. Fucking Salazar, Draco had nearly forgotten what it felt to have another person touch him like that. He rested his forehead on Potter’s shoulder, drowning himself in the sensations of this wonderfully skilled hand around him and as he turned his face, he was surprised to feel Potter’s lips on his again, kissing him with a passion and a strength that overwhelmed Draco more than he would have thought possible.

Potter snogged the daylights out of him, his hand wanking him as if there was no tomorrow and before Draco could realise what was going on, Potter dropped to his knees.

“Oh, fuck.”

Potter didn’t waste a second to take Draco whole in his mouth and suddenly it felt as if all of Draco’s deepest fantasies became real at once. He moaned loudly as Potter went at it furiously, alternating between licking the shaft and taking him deep in his mouth, making all kinds of loud slurping noises and fuck, that was almost too much. He started thrusting into Potter’s mouth, not caring one second if Potter could take it or not. As he felt his balls tighten, Draco hastily grabbed Potter by the hair and removed his hungry mouth from his cock. He then crashed his lips against Potter’s forcefully with a fire he didn’t know he had.

Draco heard a ripping sound and realised belatedly that Potter had managed to tear his shirt off, and he heard a couple of buttons fall to the ground as Potter ground himself against Draco wantonly, removing Draco’s shirt from his shoulders, baring the pale skin in the process, as it lay hanging around his waist and at the cuffs, preventing Potter from seeing his Dark Mark, which was fine by him. Potter licked the newly exposed flesh hungrily, as if Draco was the most delicious dessert he had ever tasted.

“Fuck, Malfoy, you’re so-”

But Draco never knew what he was, because he somehow managed to remove Potter’s ugly tee-shirt and stopped dead when his gaze fell on something he had not expected.

All over Potter’s side was a large tattoo representing the most stunning colourful and vibrant Phoenix Draco had ever seen. It started with its long tail on Potter’s hip, wrapped itself all the way up Potter’s rib, splaying its wings as far as Potter’s right nipple and his back on the other side.

“Well, well, fancy yourself playing the tough guy with a tattoo?” Draco muttered, unable to stop looking at the beautiful Phoenix.

“And Merlin don’t you know all about tattoos and being a bad boy yourself, Malfoy,” Potter retorted.

Draco ignored the taunt and held his breath as he ran his fingers over the tail feathers that were a gorgeous mixture of orange and dark yellow, up the Phoenix’s body composed of a gradation of dark orange, red and crimson. The Phoenix’s wings fluttered slightly as Draco brushed over the feathers that were composed entirely of a surprisingly realistic fire. Draco didn’t know if it was his imagination, but he felt heat as his fingers trailed over the end of the left wing that licked at Potter’s right nipple.

Potter gasped as Draco rubbed his nipple gently with his thumb and then rolled the nub in his fingers before pressing his lips to it and sucking it shamelessly. Potter ran a hand in Draco’s hair, and it was so good it sent shivers up his spine. Draco then licked his way down Potter’s chest until he reached his trousers and attacked the annoying line of buttons that were always so hard to remove. Draco swore under his breath as he fumbled with the buttons, and he got impatient, fingers trembling in arousal, and excitement, and frustration, and fuck, he wanted to take Potter and come deep in his arse, not bloody spend hours on a fucking pair of Muggle trousers.

Thankfully, Potter helped him with it and removed them, along with his Slytherin green underpants - Ha! - and Draco finally got to see Potter’s dick and fuck. He wasn’t disappointed. It was thick and long - not as long as his, Draco gleefully noted - but so fucking beautiful Draco’s mouth watered at the sight. He wasted no time grabbing Potter’s cock and stroking it fast. Potter moaned and Draco kissed him again, swallowing the wonderful sounds coming from Potter’s mouth.

And then Draco completely lost himself in his want.

He grabbed Potter by the shoulders and swiftly turned him around, and Potter spread his legs and braced himself on his elbows over Draco’s desk, nearly knocking down his glasses and his favourite mug in the process.

Draco took a couple of seconds to calm himself down a little, which was a feat because holy shit, having Potter bent over his desk like that was just- it was just too fucking good to be true.

Draco took himself in hand and tugged gently at his already overstimulated cock as he ran his other hand down Potter’s muscled back, and he still couldn’t believe he was here, dick in hand and about to fuck Potter senseless.

He spread Potter’s arse cheeks and rolled his hips forward, nudging at Potter’s entrance.

“Ever heard of preparation, Malfoy?” Potter said dryly from above his desk.

Preparation. Fuck.

“You know, the thing civilised people use to avoid tearing their partner apart,” Potter added.

“I know what it is, Potter.” Even there he couldn’t help patronising him. “I don’t have lube,” Draco added morosely, hoping against hope it didn’t mean they had to stop because Draco didn’t know if he could live with the idea of _almost_ shagging Potter over his desk.

“Well. Use your tongue,” Potter deadpanned.

“No way. I’m not kissing your arse. You’d never stop teasing me about it and I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Seriously Malfoy?” Potter said over his shoulder. “You’re about to fuck me over your desk, and you worry about that? Just bloody lick my arse already.”

Draco meant to retort it was disgusting, but somehow, the idea of actually licking Potter’s arse felt oddly arousing and without really realising it, he fell down on his knees, grabbing Potter’s arse cheeks and spreading them wide. The sight of Potter’s pink hole made him even harder, and he stopped thinking at once as he plunged in Potter’s most intimate part and started licking him there. It was- It was bloody exciting and Potter’s taste was strong and powerful, and Draco felt himself lapping at Potter’s entrance with a vigour he didn’t know he had. Above him, Potter was whimpering and moaning, blabbering incoherent words and Draco felt a thrill at the thought of reducing Potter to a shivering mess. He closed his lips around Potter’s entrance and sucked wetly, darting his tongue further in before it breached Potter open and Draco started fucking him with his tongue. Holy fucking shit, licking Potter’s arse surpassed any of the fantasies Draco had ever had.

“Malfoy!” Potter cried above him and Draco removed his tongue from Potter’s arse.

His legs shook hard as he stood up and brought his cock to Potter’s arse, spreading precome all over Potter’s entrance as he teased him, sliding his dick up and down Potter’s cleft, stroking and caressing it, taking his time.

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” Potter growled as Draco hesitated once again over Potter’s hole.

“I’d rather think it’s the opposite,” Draco replied, feeling pretty satisfied with himself.

“Malfoy,” Potter said in a low, menacing tone, bringing his right hand back on Draco’s hip, in a desperate attempt to pull Draco in. “Bloody hell, are you really going to make me beg for it?”

Draco smiled. Oh yes. That was all so fucking good. He’d have to find a Pensieve to memorise this moment because it wasn’t bound to happen again any time soon.

“Why, Potter, I’m-”

“Just shut up and fuck me already.”

And that indeed shut Draco up as he finally thrust in and slowly inched himself forward. Potter made a strangled noise.

Draco froze. “You- you okay?”

“Yes. Just- Keep going.”

“Right.”

Draco went all the way in agonisingly slowly, and soon felt himself buried to the hilt inside Potter. He closed his eyes and reveled in the wonderful sensations being inside Potter brought and he slowly opened them again, patiently waiting for Potter to adjust to the intrusion. Draco placed his hands on Potter’s hips, running them up and down Potter’s sides, feeling the light flutter of the Phoenix’s wings under his fingers, as goose bumps raised all over Potter’s sensitive skin.

Soon it became too much, and Draco had to move. He slowly pulled back before pushing all the way back in.

“Fuck.” Potter’s hands clutched Draco’s desk as Draco started moving, slowly at first, increasing his pace with each and every thrust as soon as he felt Potter relax completely. Draco tried to spread his own legs further but was prevented from doing so by his trousers still pooling at his feet.

They rocked together and Draco placed his hands on Potter’s shoulders as he pushed in and out of him and bloody hell, Draco had never, ever felt anything like it. Not when he had been with Theo, not even when he had fucked the very pretty Healer in the supply room. Fucking Potter was something else altogether. It was intense, it was needy, it was fucking bloody hot, and Draco felt the urge to wrap his body around him, and so he did, trailing kisses at the nape of his neck, feeding himself with Potter’s potent scent and the sweet nonsense coming from his mouth.

Draco ran his fingers on Potter’s cheek and found his lips, moaning as Potter took two of his fingers in his mouth and started sucking on them greedily. Draco groaned and thrust faster still, their movements erratic now as Draco felt the recognisable signs of his impending orgasm building up in his gut. He removed his fingers from Potter’s mouth and curled them around Potter’s hard cock instead, stroking him in rhythm with his own movements.

“Fuck, Potter, I’m gonna-”

“Yes, Draco. Come for me.”

And that was all it took. Hearing his first name in Potter’s mouth, in such an intense moment, Draco felt his balls tighten and he came deep inside Potter as at the same time he felt Potter’s come coating his fingers, splattering all over his desk.

“Oh, Draco, oh.” And Potter’s words were music to Draco’s ears as he crumbled on top of him, not caring one second about the usually carefully ordered items decorating his desk as they crashed to the floor with a resounding noise. He didn’t even give his favourite mug a second thought as it shattered in a thousand little pieces on the tiled floor.

They stayed like that for a while, panting hard, Draco’s small office reeking of sex and sweat.

Finally, Draco pulled out of Potter and pulled up his underpants and trousers, suddenly feeling self-conscious as Potter grabbed his wand and performed a Scourgify on them both and on the desk.

“Bloody hell, I’m gonna feel this for a week.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Complaining already, Potter?”

“No. It’s just- I guess the rumour was true.” Potter said with a sly smile.

Draco’s fingers froze on his belt buckle. “What?”

“I was at the hospital cafeteria.” Draco frowned. “I- I was waiting for Ron a few weeks ago when I heard- There was this rather gorgeous Healer who wasn’t all too discreet about his private life apparently and he was talking about- well, he was talking about you so naturally I started listening in and well.” Potter shrugged.

Fuck. Nice to hear Healer Dalton was such a gossipy queen. Draco was going to kill him.

“And what did he say?” Draco said dryly.

“He said- Fuck, he basically said that you would put a Thestral to shame, what with your huge-” Potter gestured at Draco’s groin.

“Oh.” Draco stiffened, not really knowing what to do with this piece of information.

Potter came closer and kissed him soundly on the mouth. “Take it as a compliment, Draco. It’s rather flattering.” Draco’s stomach fluttered crazily as he kissed Potter again, a much sweeter kiss now that the edge of arousal was gone, Potter’s hand a soft caress in his hair. It had been so wonderful to take Potter like that, but more than anything else, it had been amazing to see Potter so excited and hot for Draco and-

Wait a minute.

Draco pulled back and stared at Potter. “So I guess this is it.”

“What?” Potter asked, drawing his eyebrows together.

“The curse. It’s broken, now, right?”

“Oh, er, yes. Yes, it is. Great.” Potter blushed slightly before bringing his mouth closer to Draco’s again.

Draco shoved him back into the desk. “Fuck you, Potter. There never was a curse in the first place.”

Potter’s mouth curled up in a sheepish smile. “Oops.”

Draco was angry now, but he didn’t know if he was angrier at Potter for leading him on or at himself for falling into Potter’s trap so easily. “You’re a bloody fucking liar.”

Potter leaned forward, whispering in Draco’s ear. “See? That’s why I need a Healer. I have a problem telling the truth.”

Draco grabbed him by the shoulders and scrutinised him, before kissing him again forcefully. Potter eagerly responded to the kiss and Draco pulled back again. “This is very serious, Potter. You’ll need several sessions to get over your lying tendencies.”

Potter smiled widely and licked his lips. “Definitely.”

And at that, Draco kissed him again.

~ Fin. ~

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! ♥
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr!](http://sophiefrench77.tumblr.com/)


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